


Longarm's Discovery

by SaikaKuchiki



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-08-14 13:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8016415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaikaKuchiki/pseuds/SaikaKuchiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Longarm fell victim to the accident that got Bee and Bulkhead kicked out of boot camp and suffered a serious processor injury causing him to forget who he really is. Eventually his frame decides to show him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Longarm's Discovery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [agatharights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/agatharights/gifts).



> So I found a post by agatharights on tumblr that had some fantastic sketches. The idea just kinda grabbed me and ran away with me and this is the result.

Longarm was pleased. Although it had taken a long time he had finally become a Prime in the intel division. He frowned slightly as his processor wandered back to his training days. He had flashes of the actual training, the similar green and yellow bots arguing, a battle simulation or two, the occasional target practice, something about a spy when his memories started to become corrupted. He clearly remembered a tower falling and burying him. He shuddered slightly as he pulled his processor back to the present. There was a flash of motion as a bot suddenly arrived in his office.

“Longarm! Oh-no-wait-Longarm-Prime! I-just-came-to-say-congratulations-on-finally-getting-the-promotion-and-I'm-glad-you're-the-new-head-of-the-division.” Longarm gave a genuine smile that brought a slight pink flush to Blurr's faceplate.

“Thank you very much Agent Blurr. I'm glad to have one of the best agents on Cybertron working for me.” The flush on Blurr's faceplate brightened slightly and his speech became even faster.

“Ofcourseyou'remybossandIcan'twaittoreportbacktoyouandobviouslyyouwouldgetthebestfieldagentsbecauseyou'rethebestintelbotthereiseventhoughyousufferedtheprocessorinjuryinbootcampyou'restillbetterthaneveryoneelsethatwasthereandthatwasn'tinjured. AnywayjustpingmeifyouevenneedmeandI'llcomerunning. OkayIhavetogonowbye.” Blurr dashed out of the room again when he finished speaking without giving Longarm the opportunity to respond.

 

Longarm thoroughly enjoyed his work, finding, controlling and distributing all the intelligence the department could gather. He insisted on all information passing through him before it was moved onwards, and yet somehow he never seemed to be bogged down in the paperwork that always seemed to swamp his secretary. The best agents reported directly to him, a certain blue speeder even had the private code to his office.

And yet something felt off. It had been slowly building for a while now, but whenever he used his stretching ability a strange discomfort washed through his t-cog. At first it had merely been an inconvenience, but recently it had become a sharp stab of pain for something as simple as reaching for a datapad on the other side of his office. However as he'd never found out about – let alone met – another bot with his abilities, he simply kept it to himself and attempted to use it less.

It was a normal day, Blurr had just reported back on another successful mission, speeding away and leaving the Prime in a pleasant mood when everything went drastically wrong. He hadn't even stretched yet, simply thought about the idea, when it felt like his t-cog completely seized up. His servo went to cover it, a small gasp escaping him as painful, groaning shudders passed through his frame. He fell off his chair, gripping his desk as a burst of pain flooded from his t-cog. In his panic he pinged Blurr to come back as he felt his internals start to shift.

There was a crunching crack as his servo broke through his desk. He stared at it in horror as it seemed to grow larger, and larger. His delicate fingers were melding together, lengthening and sharpening into crude claws. His arm too began to elongate, but it felt different to his stretching.

There was a soft beep of the door opening as Blurr came back into the room.

“Was-there-something-else-I-needed-to-add-to-my-report-Longarm-Prime-sir?” Blurr had already reeled off before Longarm remotely locked the door behind him.

“Blurr! Blurr help me!” Longarm gasped out as half of the bar around his face ripped itself free. It began to twist and turn upwards as the red biolight on his forehead grew brighter. Longarm's free servo was following the changes of the first one as he fell sideways onto his desk, somehow breaking the whole thing in half. Longarm's entire frame was thinning down and stretching out, the lower treads on his legs hardening and solidifying into warframe grade armour.

“Blurr! Wha– what's happening to me?” Something was changing in Longarm's voice.

Blurr had backed into the very corner of the room as his superiors face seemed to grow completely blank of all expression. Somehow Longarm was continuing to call for help despite the fact his mouth wasn't moving, and with each word he uttered his voice would continue to change. As the other half of the bar around Longarm's face tore itself free Blurr watched in shock as Longarm's entire face simply faded out of existence. There was a flash of red light as a foci appeared in the biolight in the centre of the blank, black, plate. Longarm arched his back, crushing even further the remnants of his desk as he still continued to grow taller.

“WHAT AM I?!” came a loud yell in a voice that Blurr could no longer recognise as Longarm's. The transformation seemed to be finally coming to an end, but Blurr could see Longarm's chestplate. He watched as the red Autobot symbol washed over with purple, shifting to the sharp sinister Decepticon symbol.

The warframe's servos shook as it brought them up to the lone optic that seemed to be its faceplate. There was a low grunt of pain as one of the digits scratched into one of antennae that now protruded from its helm. It glanced down at the rest of its frame, optic focusing on the symbol on its chest for a moment before offlining. One large servo covered the 'faceplate' and Blurr crept forwards.

“Longarm Prime? Sir?” he asked tentatively.

“What am I Agent Blurr?” came the response. 'Longarm' sat up, in a slightly ungainly fashion but already taller than Blurr standing next to him. The imposing optic flared into life again, washing Blurr's faceplate with its red light. “Why does my frame finally feel like my own when it clearly belongs to a Decepticon?”

But Blurr had no answers for his superior.

He simply stared.

And that harsh, red optic stared right back.

**Author's Note:**

> http://agatharights.tumblr.com/post/132047176075/nakklepiggy-agatharights-nakklepiggy  
> (Those are the sketches if people are interested. They're awesome)


End file.
